


this cake is pathetic (but i love it more than anything)

by dullrockets



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Baking, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mainly comfort, theres not really much lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:40:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28207704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dullrockets/pseuds/dullrockets
Summary: tommy is down. tubbo helps (and so what if he's covered in flour).
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 10
Kudos: 98
Collections: the writer's block's Secret Santa





	this cake is pathetic (but i love it more than anything)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kelp_ie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelp_ie/gifts).



> yes finchie i hope you like your gift :) i barely followed the prompt but. whatever
> 
> warnings: food mentions, im p sure thats about it
> 
> BETA READ BY [NIC!!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nic_L) ILY NIC
> 
> lowercase intentional :)
> 
> disclaimers: while this is an rl au, tommy and tubbo are based off the personas they display online. if any cc says they are uncomfortable with this type of fic, it will be taken down immediately.

the rain pouring down was actually rather annoying, in tubbo’s opinion. he didn’t like the rain much. it was wet, dreary, and all around terrible. and wow, lucky for him, he managed to live in the united kingdom, also known as _fucking rainy_. so, with an umbrella, a rain jacket, and a scowl, he walked out of the school and avoided every puddle he could. and sure, tommy was right next to him, but _he_ actually enjoyed the rain, which didn’t help to aid _tubbo’s_ irritation.

then again, he wasn’t actually sure tommy was happy, right now. he wasn’t smiling, or laughing, or talking, or doing anything, really. he was just trudging through the mud with an unreadable expression (or maybe it was super clear, and tubbo just couldn’t tell social cues, which was probably the answer) on his face.

he didn’t really know what to do. which was obvious, actually, because the only thing he knew how to do was make things worse. he tried, really, he did! but most things tubbo had tried just usually didn’t turn out for the best, so he stopped. but, just this once, he decided, he’d try and help. but, he probably needed a plan, didn’t he? and he couldn’t really make one for tommy when he was right there beside him.

he smiled, waved, and said goodbye (only at the last possible moment, mind you– niki told him, once, that when people were having a bad day they usually didn’t like to be alone, and he trusted her), before running off into his family’s flat. it was on the second floor, and after he walked up the stairs, he had to walk down half the hallway to get to the door. 

he, after unlocking it with his key (which was on this super cool string thing that worked like a tape measure that connected to his book bag), ran straight to his room because he had the greatest idea. slung the bag onto the door’s hook, and sat down at his desk, powering on his pc. he was pretty sure google knew everything, so, theoretically, google knew how to help tommy. perfect, [wikihow](https://www.wikihow.com/Make-Your-Friend-Feel-Better).

how to make your friend feel better  
_i. talking to your friend  
ii. listen to your friend  
iii. encourage them to remember the good times  
iv. offer compassion without being presumptuous  
v. let your friend know you’re proud of them_

ok. this didn’t sound too hard. there was a part two, which he skimmed over. something about taking tommy _out to do fun activities_ , or _helping with day to day responsibilities._  
okay, what was really fun that tommy liked? exercise? no, that was boring. hm, maybe something like an instrument? wait, tubbo wasn’t good at singing or playing, really. perhaps he could make a list? that sounded nice.

_going to the shops._ no, that would overwhelm tommy (and himself, if he was being honest).  
_online shopping._ that was basically the same thing!  
_cooking._ okay, well, he couldn’t– surely not– could he actually go through with that plan? It seemed straightforward to him. maybe he could even bake something for tommy. that seemed nice, actually; tubbo had been dabbling in cookie–making for around three weeks, but perhaps he could try to make a cake.

yes. he’s decided, he’s going to bake a cake for tommy to make him feel better. that’s the plan. _how the fuck does one make a cake?_ welp, back to google. ok, an [easy vanilla cake recipe](https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/277000/easy-vanilla-cake/). that’s cool. he could do that. probably.

_i. cooking spray  
ii. 2 ⅔ cups all–purpose flour, or more as needed  
iii. 1 cup white sugar  
iv. 1 tablespoon baking powder  
v. 1 tablespoon vanilla extract  
vi. 2 pinches salt  
vii. 3 eggs  
viii. ¾ cup milk  
ix. ¾ cup vegetable oil_

alright. he was 90% sure that he had all the stuff somewhere in his kitchen. he knew his dad really liked to stress bake, so he had to have the stuff. maybe he should be doing this with his help? no. that wouldn’t be as thoughtful, in his humble opinion. and it had to be perfect, absolutely perfect (not perfect in the material way, but it had to mean something). or else, tommy might not like it. and that would make him have an even shittier day, if context was anything to go off of.

–

tubbo should’ve gotten his dad’s help. he knew this because he was dusted pure white with flour, laughing as loud as he could as he saw the pathetic thing his cake was. maybe it shouldn’t be as funny to him– after all, it was his gift for tommy. but it was just so funny, he couldn’t resist taking a picture of it to post on instagram later. (maybe in a few hours, or maybe he’d take a selfie with tommy and the cake).

the cake now had frosting on it. cool. it was cute, in a way, but really just ugly. he hoped the taste would make up for it. he put a dream–esque smiley face on it with bright red frosting, and got a container to put it in. it was clear, and had two dark grey handles that clipped to the actual box part of it. cool. he slid the cake in, grinning at his work. and sure, it looked like a nine–year–old made it, but it was probably alright.

–

the amount of shock on tommy’s face when he opened the door for tubbo was something he’d never regret. after all, he was covered in flour and smiling with a cake in his hands. it was like something you’d dream about the night before your birthday.

“wh– tubbo? why are you here?”

“tommy! i know you had a shitty day, or at least i think you did, so i made this cake! i really hope this helps, because i really want you to get better– speaking of, are you sick? i’m not actually sure–”

“thank you, tubbo,” his best friend said, wrapping him in a hug (but not before taking the cake out of his hand, because why not? it was his now), “i’ve just been having a bitchy day. wilbur was being a bit harsh with his bits and all that stuff.”

tommy started laughing at his own statement, though it was pretty out of place, opening the lid of the box, “well, c’mon inside. wilbur’s streaming in his office, phil’s at work, and techno’s asleep, we have the place to ourselves! and besides, you gotta try your own cake.”

tubbo agreed with a smile that beamed like sunlight, and closed the door behind him as he ran to catch up towards tommy, who was walking up the stairs two at a time. he would shout to tell him to wait up, but he really didn’t want to ruin the moment (tommy would’ve definitely ruined the moment. that would’ve been hilarious, in retrospect, but he didn’t mind keeping the atmosphere nice and soft).

and if phil came home and saw tommy and tubbo hugging each other like there was no tomorrow in front of a pile of cake crumbs from a door that was open ajar? well, no one had to know anything.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry that tommy isn't that hurt and isn't that comforted but i tried my best also yes there's only like a line about sbi. fight me


End file.
